Check out the cover for the latest album from WARPED CREEPY SEX OBJECT Miley Cyrus, now nose-deep in her awkward summer of twerking, cocaine eyes and “look at me, Disney, I’m not YOU anymore!” forced sexual bullsh*ttery. I’m sure when you heard Miley was coming out with a new record your first thought was, “will it be ironic?” The answer is, surprisingly, yes.

By the way, she’s calling it BANGERZ. With a Z. I’m not kidding.

Urge to play Vice City, rising.

The deluxe edition is even better, if you have trouble listening to Miley’s music without imagining her as a dead-eyed mannequin from an early-80s skating rink.

If I could go back in time, I’d put Miley Cyrus on the cover of Vanity Fair wearing a snowsuit with the hood pulled shut.

This might all be a natural evolution for a girl who has been famous since she was 10, but I’m laying good money on the album after this being a more serious “artistic” endeavor and then the next being her natural foray into country presented as “going back to her roots.”